


Messages and Kisses

by ButtLordLunaPower



Series: Instagram AU [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 21:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17753498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButtLordLunaPower/pseuds/ButtLordLunaPower
Summary: For my texting AU on my instagram ;)





	Messages and Kisses

  


Arthur didn’t listen.

 

He didn’t like to listen.

 

He was sick, and it was his house, and he was just so _hot_ and so _cold_ at the same time. And he really needs to know where the thermometer is.

 

Arthur just barely makes it to the bathroom, the tile is cool against this warm skin. He stumbled, and at some point his head almost came into contact with the corner of the bathroom sink if he weren’t saved.

 

“What do you think you’re doing Arthur?” A very nice and recognizable voice spoke into his ear. Whether or not Francis was being mindful for headache consent was beyond him, but the warm breath against hot skin was like an air conditioner sitting directly into the window of his room, so it felt good and refreshing - and he inhaled so deeply he swore that the smell of lilac perfume was his new Vick’s treatment, but instead of a rubbing sensation, it was a holding sensation. All around him it was.

 

“M’ gross.” Arthur had mumbled. He felt Francis press his face against Arthur’s neck. “You’re falling Arthur!” He suddenly felt an arm wrap around his waist in a haste to catch him. Arthur could have almost gone limp in the grip of desperation (in desperation to not let him fall of course) even the fact that Francis could have the sheer amount of strength to keep him from face planting into the tile was beyond him, and he even came up with the logical reasoning of ‘adrenaline’. (But what adrenaline was there to be spared?)

 

“You’re going to hurt yourself Arthur,” Another arm was wrapped around him , and finally he was steady (or at least slightly more steady than before). “You never listen... do you?” Arthur wasn’t sure if that statement was to him or a reminder to Francis. Because indeed, Arthur lacked the concrete reasoning to listen. When you’re sick and defenseless you can’t help but BE defensive when you’re vulnerable. But deep down; Arthur knew otherwise.

 

Arthur shakes his head, and Francis chin is still lightly pressing to neck. ‘I’m still here,’ Arthur felt like Francis was symbolically saying.

 

“You’re far too much to be healthy, turn and face me.”

 

Arthur hated being told what to do, but Francis was warm, and his voice was soft. And he smelt like medicine he would be willing to take. So he easily complied, due to vulnerability of course.

 

The lighting in the bathroom was too bright for Arthur to even attempt to keep his eyes open. The room made him feel drowsy. Yet Francis’ eyes were dark, and calm. Welcoming, and beckoning ‘Come closer.’ These thoughts could be easily rendered to a fever dream turned lucid, but Francis still looked the same, felt the same. Francis was still Francis.

He in turn rested his head on Francis shoulder and slumped lightly. He didn’t mind the extra weight. And he let himself stroke his back.

 

“You’re always so pretty Francis.”

 

Francis perks up, “I’m sorry?”

 

“You’re always so pretty and nice to people, and I can’t fathom as to why you hate yourself so much.” Arthur sighs.

 

“I’m sorry to disappoint Arthur…”

 

“You don’t disappoint Francis, I promise.”

 

Francis responds with a bitter laugh and bitter smile.

 

“-and anyone who says otherwise are just big bloody wankers, I promise.”

 

Francis hums. “I suppose, but you need to go back to bed Arthur.”

 

He grimace but stayed silent. So silent in fact you could hear the crickets outside. So silent that a pen could drop and maybe even the world would hear it. So silent that the only thing Arthur payed attention to was Francis’ and his heartbeat. It was a rhythm. A rhythm that had every opportunity to fall asleep. Maybe with Francis?

 

Did he want that, someone like Francis?

 

Arthur wrapped his arms around Francis’ shoulders. He could get Francis sick.

 

Francis. Anxious, Frustrated, Lonely, Flustered, Nice, Charming, Francis.

 

So, he lifted his head, and they both saw it. The potential, the feeling, the want.

 

Arthur slowly moved in, his lips connecting with Francis in a way that felt mutual, felt loved, like it wasn’t a mistake because, Francis was kissing back, and Arthur barely noticed when he was backed into a wall, long fingers placed themselves on the sides of his jaw almost forcing Arthur to kiss back.

 

Physically - the kiss wasn’t even a kiss, but teeth and biting and possessive behavior, and Arthur loved it.

 

Breaking apart was something Arthur dreaded, but air was vitle.

 

When they did finally, Arthur’s shirt had ridden half up up his stomach because Francis’ hands decided to roam around, and Arthur cad completely tangled the other’s hair.

 

They laughed. A breathy and embarrassed laugh.

 

“You’re going to get sick.” Arthur licked his lips.

 

“I don’t mind Arthur.” He smiled and pulled apart.

 

“Francis,” Arthur grabbed his hand like the man was going to float away, “Stay with me tonight. I can get a pillow for you. We can watch movies and sleep.”

 

...Francis kisses him again.

 

“-and we could eat, now please lay down.”

 

And Arthur nods.


End file.
